


Pathology of Emotion

by BarPurple



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M, Mycroft Being a Good Brother, Post The Final Problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-28
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 10:34:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9487397
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BarPurple/pseuds/BarPurple
Summary: Mycroft sees a chance to repair an important relationship.





	

The paramedics had to sedate Mycroft to get him out of Eurus’ cell. He’d lost control of his normal icy demeanour, which wasn’t in the least bit surprising considering recent events. He might even spare a moment to be embarrassed about his panic attack once the sedative wore off completely. The door to his room slammed open rousing him from his pleasant doze.

“Ah Doctor Hooper, hello.”

Her usually friendly face was tight and drawn, her mouth set in a grim line. She went about checking his notes without saying a word to him. He shifted uncomfortably on the bed as he recalled in detail the phone call Sherlock had been forced into making.

“I assure you I am perfectly well.”

“Shut up Mycroft.”

Her sharp tone was quite the surprise; this woman was known as the Morgue Mouse, it was rather disturbing to discover that she was capable of such venom.

“Doctor Hooper, there is …”

Her eyes finally met his; the depth of emotional pain in her gaze silenced him. He acquiesced as she checked his pupil response, desperately trying to work out what one said in this situation. He took small comfort from the fact that he was charting a new course here; he suspected there was no precedent for witnessing one’s psychopathic sister forcing the woman who had loved one’s brother for years to say those three important little words. Well, possibly it had happened in Ancient Rome, he’d have to research that; what a strange thought, this sedative was clearly making him a little loopy.

“Do I pass inspection doctor?”

He was aware of how inane that sounded, but the stony silence she was projected was getting to him.

“I see why they asked me to examine you. What is it about you Holmes men that drives you to make my usual patients look healthy?”

Mycroft sniffed, his cholesterol wasn’t ideal and his blood pressure ran a little high, but to be unfavourably compared with a corpse on a slab felt unfair. Then again she wasn’t venting her ire for him, was she?

“He meant it you know.”

Molly closed her eyes and gave a deep sigh. In a detached way he admired how well this quirky lady controlled her emotions without closing herself off from them. It was a skill he and his siblings sorely needed to learn.

“You were there, with him when he made that call?”

“Yes, if you’ll take a seat I will explain as much as I can.”

She gave him a sneering glare totally alien to her face and personality. What had they done to this amazing woman?

“I know that it was a big case, I know that it is all top secret, and I know that I am done with the brothers Holmes.”

She twirled on her heel and marched to the door, but surprised him by pausing and saying in a clipped professional tone; “You need to talk to someone about your test results. Doctor Flint is very good.”

She left leaving Mycroft staring after her in wonderment. He reached for his mobile and made a call.

 

Two days later a sleek black car pulled up outside Molly’s flat. She was giving serious consideration to bolting out of the back door, or throwing the contents of Toby’s litterbox at the unwelcomed visitors when the letterbox rattled and something heavy dropped onto the mat. A quick peek out of the window proved the car was still there. Molly made herself a cuppa, drank it slowly, and then finally retrieved the thick envelope from the mat. She read the contents twice before she watched the enclosed DVD, and once after. The clock ticked through twenty-four minutes while she stared into space.

In the car outside Mycroft was trying not to fidget. He refused to distract himself with matters of state, Doctor Hooper deserved his full attention, she had earned that over and over again. He was questioning everything in the file currently in her possession. He had never revealed so much about his family before, but in her skilled hands Molly currently held the darkest Holmes secrets and the heart of his brother.

“Sir.”

Vincent cautiously called his attention to the front door. Mycroft stepped out of the car and waited as Molly approached. He’d not been this anxious in a while, it was a rather unsettling feeling.

“Is this all true?”

“Yes.”

No favourable editing, of skewing of the facts. No political spin?”

“You have seen everything in the uncut, raw form, no redactions at all.”

She subjected him to a scrutinising look that made him feel like a sample under a microscope. Is this what ordinary people felt like when he and Sherlock deduced them? No wonder people squirmed. Her face softened back to her habitual friendly aspect.

“Thank you Mycroft. If, you know, if you ever want to talk, I mean I’m sure you have plenty of professional options, but if you want a friend, well, you know where to find me.”

He knew he’d not been successful in keeping the look of surprise from his face. He cleared his throat to cover his confusion at this generosity and asked; “Do you have a  
message for Sherlock?”

Molly gave him a small smile; “I’ve already texted him.”

He waited to see if she would offer more information on the subject, but she shook her head.

“That’s between Sherlock and me, but we’re talking again, okay?”

“Thank you Molly.”

She gave him the first sunny smile he’d seen on her face in far too long. With that one gesture the world seemed to shift back towards right. He watched as she went back into her flat. The car was halfway back to Whitehall when his phone chimed.

_Thank you brother mine._

The car crept through London’s traffic as Mycroft considered his reply.

_She is smarter than any of us, let her guide you Sherlock. Good luck – MH_


End file.
